by A. M. Myers
Let’s be honest, I’ve gone out with some real assholes, Luca included, and despite being extremely careful, there was always a chance I could have ended up pregnant by any of them which would have been a complete fucking disaster. God… there was Mike, who referred to himself in the third person and smacked the ass of any woman who walked past us when we were out but I knew he would never get too attached so, in a sense, he was a safe option. Plus, he was decent in bed so I kept him around for far longer than I probably should have. Or I could have been knocked up by Cal, who had a stellar dick game but made me so mad that I almost smashed my car into a pole on occasion just to shut him the fuck up. Jesus, and don’t even get me started on James. I barely hold back a groan as I try to avoid reliving that period of my life.
Peeking back at Diego, I cross my arms over my chest and shrink in my seat. As far as baby daddies go, I could have done so much worse than this man. Now that he knows, now that he’s promised to be here for me and our baby, there is no doubt in my mind that he will do just that. I don’t worry that he will change his mind and walk away or that he will treat me with anything less than the respect I deserve. He’s the kind of man that they write stories about, the type of guy that songs are dedicated to - kind, honorable, true - and I know that I’ve been so damn unfair to him throughout this process. I wish I could say that knowing that will snap me out of it but I can’t make that promise because the attraction that led to us being locked away in my bedroom for three damn days is still there and I want him. Jesus, knowing how good it is between us and how amazing he can make me feel only makes me want him more but it’s such a bad idea. When I lay in his bed at night, I can smell him in the sheets around me and all I can think about is the feeling of his hands on my skin, the fire in his eyes every time he slid inside me, and how fucking good it felt to be wrapped around him. It’s driving me out of my damn mind and then, there is the fact that he kissed me just forty-eight hours ago. The memory of the kiss pops into my mind and my lips tingle with the remnants of it as I shift in my seat, desperately trying to shove the feeling away but the damn thing refuses to let me be. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t expecting it that the kiss has haunted me for the last two days or it could be the fact that I’m carrying the man’s baby in my belly but something was definitely different and I didn’t like it.
Except that I really, really did.
“Isabelle Hutton.” The same nurse from before stands in the doorway with my file in her hand as she scans the room, searching for me, and I stand, flashing her a polite smile as I rest a hand on top of my little bump. I couldn’t help but notice that my belly was a little more pronounced this morning, like this little baby knew that now was its time to shine since I finally revealed the secret of its existence to everyone that needed to know. For the first time in my pregnancy, things just feel right… you know, besides the whole being hunted down and possibly murdered by Luca and his friend slash henchman person. Diego places his hand at the small of my back, pulling me out of my thoughts, as we follow the nurse into the back and down a long hallway to an exam room.
We step inside and the nurse instructs me to sit on the exam table and Diego sinks into one of the two chairs lined up against the wall as she sets my file down on the counter and pulls the stethoscope from around her neck. She begins taking my vitals as well as asking me all of the usual questions and it’s perfectly normal but a flutter of nerves races through my belly. Since the attack, I haven’t had any pain or bleeding, nothing that would indicate that there is something wrong, and yet, there is a tiny little voice in my head screaming at me that there is something wrong with the baby. The nurse slides the blood pressure cuff around my arm and I struggle to take a deep breath as I repeatedly tell myself that everything is fine but that other voice just won’t shut the hell up. The machine beeps as the cuff around my arm deflates and the nurse scowls at the screen before switching it off and scribbling the number down in my chart. My stomach drops and my heart kicks in my chest as I try to focus on anything else but memories of the baby I lost keep ambushing me, filling me with the pain I’ve kept locked away for so long.
“Okay,” she says, turning back to me with a smile. “The doctor will be in shortly.”
I watch her walk out of the room as my heart climbs into my throat, choking me, and my mind spins with rapid fire questions.
Was something wrong?
Did she see something that will have the doctor concerned?
What if the hospital missed something and the baby was hurt when Luca tackled me?
Oh, God, what if…
I can’t… I can’t lose another baby… I won’t survive it.
As if on cue, the baby delivers a kick to my ribs, letting me know that he or she is perfectly fine, almost like it could sense my total panic. Hell, it probably could. My sister bought me one of the What to Expect When You’re Expecting books and I only got through four chapters before I shoved it in the back of my closet and forgot about it so what do I know? Maybe this baby feels the dread I feel before each appointment and the rush of relief when the doctor reassures me that everything is okay. Closing my eyes, I suck in a breath and thank my sweet little peanut for the added reassurance as I press a hand to my belly.
“Is the baby kicking?” Diego asks and my eyes snap open, meeting his gaze across the room. He leans forward in his chair, toying with the ring on his right hand as he tilts his head to the side and glances down at my belly. His eyes find mine again, almost pleading with me, and the look on his face is so eager, so pure, that it breaks my heart. As I’ve been hiding in his bedroom for the last two, this baby has kicked the crap out of me and I’ve been so focused on the weirdness between us that it never even occurred to me that he might like to feel his child kick.
“Do you want to feel?”
He looks between my belly and me again before he nods and stands, closing the distance between us and looking at me for approval before he touches me. The baby kicks again and I grab his hand, placing it near the spot of the last strike. His warmth sinks into my skin and despite the shirt between us, it still conjures up memories of our weekend together, memories of just laying in bed with him after hours of sex so hot that I thought I might die mid-orgasm and the tender way he brushed my hair out of my face as we talked about nothing in particular. But why? Why the hell am I remembering the moments that didn’t have anything to do with sex just as much as the moments that do?
“I don’t feel anything,” he whispers, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I shake my head as I fight back a smile.
“Just give them a second.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, the baby kicks right where Diego’s hand is, almost like they know their daddy is here, and his lips part in a silent gasp as his eyes find mine.
“Holy shit, that’s wild.”
I let out a little laugh. “You should feel it from my side.”
The door to the room opens and Diego yanks his hand away like a naughty teenager as Dr. Deaton steps into the room, flashing me a wide smile before she stops. Her gaze flicks between Diego and me as she shuts the door behind her.
“Hello.” She extends her hand toward Diego. “I’m Dr. Deaton and you are?”
“Diego Rodriguez. I’m… uh…”
“He’s the baby’s father,” I supply when he can’t quite find the words but I can’t blame him. Knowing you’re going to be a parent and saying it out loud for the first time are two very different things and it takes a little time to get used to. Dr. Deaton’s smile grows as she gives the two of us an approving nod.
“Excellent! Happy to have you here with us,” she says and I nod in agreement. I’ve been completely open with Dr. Deaton so she knows everything about the situation between Diego and me and she’s been encouraging me to tell him the truth for a while now.
“Thanks. Happy to be here,” Diego answers, glancing over at me and I resist the urge to shrink on the table. Things seem okay between us now but I feel so stupid for building the conver
sation with him up so much in my head that I was too terrified to actually do it for months.
“Izzy, I read over the report from the emergency room and it sounds like you’ve been through an awful ordeal but I think, all in all, you got very lucky.”
I nod. “Yes, I did.”
“How are you feeling?” she asks, sitting on the stool and looking over my vitals and the nurse’s notes in my chart. My fear from before resurfaces but I shove it back down as I rub my hand over the top of my belly and nod.
“I’m feeling all right.”
She hums to herself in response, flipping through a couple of pages. “Any pain?”
“My whole body hurts from what happened to me but nothing with the baby.”
“Good,” she replies, nodding as she turns to look at me. “And bleeding?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Perfect. You ready to see your baby then?” Her gaze snaps to Diego, who looks like he might throw up, before coming back to me. I nod, keeping Diego in my line of sight as I fight back a smile. I know I showed him the ultrasound just a couple of days ago but that doesn’t compare to seeing it in real time, on the screen, and I’ve already taken so much from him in this pregnancy that I can’t wait to watch him experience this. Dr. Deaton steps up to the side of the bed and moves the ultrasound machine into position. “Lie back and lift your shirt for me, please.”
I do as instructed, lying back on the exam table and pulling my shirt back as I glance over at Diego. He keeps looking between my stomach and the ultrasound machine and he shoves his hands in his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them before pulling them out again and crossing them over his chest. Licking his lips, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and his eyes find mine.
“Go ahead and stand on her other side so you can see clearly, Mr. Rodriguez,” Dr. Deaton says. Diego steps up beside me and shoves his hands in his pockets again, staring at the screen intently as Dr. Deaton squirts some gel on my belly and presses the wand to my skin. The grainy image of our baby appears on the screen but instead of watching our little peanut like I normally do, I can’t take my eyes off of Diego. His body stills and his eyes widen slowly, taking in the image of our child as the hint of a smile teases his lips. He sucks in a breath and that hint turns into a full-blown grin as he looks down and meets my eyes. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he uses his thumb to brush a stray lock of hair from my face as he beams at me and my skin tingles as I struggle to drag a breath into my lungs.
Fuck.
“Do we want to know the sex now?” Dr. Deaton asks, her tone coy, pulling my attention back to the screen but my head feels a little foggy. I blow out a breath in an effort to clear my mind and she arches a brow, waiting for my answer. She knows that I’ve been dying to know the sex of the baby but that I wanted to wait until Diego could be here with me. I turn back to him, letting him be in control because I’ve already made so many decisions without him. He grabs my hand off of the table and nods.
“Yeah, we do.”
Dr. Deaton grins. “I was hoping you would say that. This little one made sure I got a look at the goods the last time you were here, Izzy, so I can confidently say that you are having a little boy.”
Laughter bubbles out of me and tears sting my eyes as I look over at Diego in a daze and his answering smile is brilliant as he pulls my hand up and presses his lips to my skin before turning back to the screen to look at our son. All of the pain, everything I’ve ever been through that led me to this moment flashes through my mind and the fact that I’m here, happier than I’ve ever been with a baby boy on the way, doesn’t feel real. In some of my darkest moments, when I couldn’t even admit to myself that I wanted this because wanting something I would never get would be too painful, a part of me hoped that one day I might have another chance to be a mother. The voice was small and so damn quiet, easily ignored or silenced, but it was there, begging me to fight another day. And I’m so glad that I did.
A galloping sound fills the room, pulling my focus back to the ultrasound machine and our sweet baby. “And there is the heartbeat - nice and strong.”
“Wow,” Diego whispers, his voice so soft, a direct contrast to the side of himself he usually shows the world, a side I got the pleasure of seeing pieces of during our weekend together and my heart feels so full. Looking up at Diego, I know that he will love our son with everything he’s got and be the very best father he can be. Dr. Deaton prints off a few shots of our little guy and I squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand how sorry I am and how lucky I feel to be doing this with him. His eyes meet mine, warm and full of wonder, and his smile is so pure that my chest aches over the fact that I didn’t tell him sooner.
I’m such a damn idiot.
“Here you go, you two.” Dr. Deaton hands our photos to Diego and he releases my hand to take them, moving back to the chair against the wall. He’s completely absorbed, lost in the images of our baby boy, as Dr. Deaton wipes the gel from my belly and helps me sit up.
“So, everything looked good. Baby is strong and healthy but I still want you to take it easy over the next couple weeks. If you feel any cramping or you start to bleed, you get to the hospital and call me right away. Are we clear?”
“Yeah, we are,” Diego answers before I can say anything. “I’ll take good care of them, Doc.”
She chuckles. “Of that I have no doubt.”
“Can I go back to work?” I ask, cutting into their conversation. I appreciate Diego’s concern for me and our child but I won’t be shut out of anything and I sure as hell won’t be talked over. Dr. Deaton turns to me and purses her lips as she considers my request. Finally, she nods.
“You can do the radio show provided that you follow doctor’s orders and take it easy, like I’ve said. You’ve been through something traumatic and I don’t want you overdoing it.”
I nod. “You got it.”
“Good,” she says, grinning, as she swipes my file off of the table and gestures to the door. “In that case, you’re free to go. I want to see you back in a month though. Just make an appointment at the front desk.”
I agree and hop off of the table before Diego ushers me out of the room, the ultrasound pictures tucked securely in the inner pocket of his cut and I have a sneaking suspicion that I won’t be getting any of those for myself. But I can’t blame him for that. After we schedule my next appointment with the receptionist, he places his hand at the small of my back again and leads me outside as he scans the parking lot and my stomach drops. For a brief second, I forgot all about the trouble I’m in and the danger surrounding me but it’s back now, in full force. Diego walks me to the passenger side of the truck, still scanning the lot, and I reach for the door handle. He grabs my arm, stopping me, and my heart jumps into my throat as he pulls me back but before I can say anything, he wraps his arms around me and I stumble as he drags me into a hug.
What the hell?
My head swims but my body melts into him and I grip the back of his cut as he breathes me in, almost like he’s memorizing the moment. Every nerve ending in my body sings from his touch and I scowl into his chest, trying to wrap my mind around his actions but it’s useless.
I can’t think.
I can’t speak.
And I can’t, for the life of me, pull away.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice so earnest that it makes my chest ache all over again and his arms tighten around me, holding me closer. Tears sting my eyes and I nod despite the fact that I’m not sure what he’s thanking me for. He should be angry with me right now, pissed that I kept this from him for so long and stopped him from experiencing this for six long months. Any other man would be raging against me right now, not thanking me. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense but if he’s willing to let go of the past and my mistakes then I can stop being such a heinous bitch to the man. He doesn’t deserve that. Besides, if the two of us are going to come together to raise this baby, we have to be able to build, at le
ast, a friendship so we don’t spend the next eighteen years making each other absolutely miserable.
Chapter Ten
Luca
“What that mouth do, baby?” some idiot who called into Izzy’s radio show asks and I snort out a laugh as I lean back in my seat and turn up the volume.
“Oh, you sweet fool,” she fires back, a condescending tone to her voice that says she’s about to rip this guy to shreds. I cross my arms over my chest and grit my teeth, remembering the way she spoke to me outside of the restaurant three nights ago. “You couldn’t handle it.”
“Yeah? That sounds hot as fuck. Tell me more.”
She laughs. “If you insist…”
“Fuck yeah, I do.”
“Okay, well, this mouth is also particularly skilled at putting little fuck boys like you back in their place when they step out of line. See, you seem like the type of guy who only says sexual based shit to women because if you tried to hold a legitimate conversation with them, they would realize how fucking stupid you were and drop you like the nothing you are. And let’s say, for shits and giggles, that you did manage to convince some poor woman into taking you home, you strike me as the type of guy that would flop on top of her like a dying fish with your semi-limp tootsie roll of a cock for a solid forty-five seconds before you rolled over and told her how good it was for you.”